11 Reasons They Can Never Be Truly Happy
by ineXpressible
Summary: Simplicity is a tantalizing ideal that Edward has learned not to trust. RoyEd [Written for the 11 Reasons comm on LJ]
1. Nothing More Than A Lie

_Posted: July 20, 2006_

**Disclaimer:** I do not own anything Fullmetal Alchemist related.

**Note:** This is written for 11 reasons at live journal (link can be found in my communities list on the profile of my homepage). The point of this community is to write 11 reasons for a general theme of your choice. Each reason must adhere to a certain theme that is chosen from a table of themes.

**11 REASONS GENERAL THEME:** 11 Reasons They Can Never Be Truly Happy

**TITLE:** Nothing More Than A Lie

**Theme:** Rain

**Summary:** _Simplicity is a tantalizing ideal that Edward has learned not to trust. Roy/Ed

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**Nothing More Than A Lie**

Rain. It is the backbone of simplicity within a world that writhes in complications.

_And yet_, Ed thinks as he watches the glassy substance glide down the windowpane, _that isn't the truth_.

A wry smile finds its way to the boy's lips and he considers this 'truth'.

Truth. There is no such thing as an absolute truth. Every reality is bogged down by ambiguities that undermine the very structure of its existence.

For example, as the rain slides down the window, it chooses a winding, complex path and slows; seeming to struggle past an invisible hardship, then speeds up - ostensibly out of nowhere - and continues sliding down the glass in an uneven pattern that even a genius cannot predict.

Then again, perhaps geniuses are unable to comprehend simplicity because it is not in their nature to do so.

A cold metal finger drags along the glass, creating a sharp scratching noise, and the owner of the automail draws in a breath. He watches the grey world beyond the glass with hooded eyes that reveal nothing and yet so much at the same time.

Simplicity is a mere illusion, he decides.

It has to be.

The pressure of his finger upon the glass intensifies and the boy revels in the noise he is creating as he leaves his mark upon the perfect surface, much as he has left his mark upon numerous other seemingly perfect surfaces.

Amusement glints in the alchemist's eyes as a cold rush of air toys with his long red coat. He hears the nearly noiseless click of a door closing and refuses to turn.

"Fullmetal," a listless voice drawls from the doorway to the room. Ed relaxes minutely and stares at the reflection of the man upon the glass. Black obsidian eyes gaze back at him with a hard expression.

"Colonel," Edward greets with a nostalgic smile.

If life had been simple, then perhaps the one called Fullmetal would not be faced with the greatest temptation he has ever known.

The soft sound of boots on carpet alert Edward to the Colonel's advance and he lets his eyes wander from the reflection back to the torrent that is drowning the world beyond the glass.

The sky is grey and forlorn as are the streets and buildings. Usually vibrant colours are washed over and left with a faded, somber imitation of what was once the truth. Edward shifts and tries to piece together all of life's sadistic little miseries in one go. Of course, he knows such a feat is impossible. Life is cruel, and hence its 'sadistic little miseries', as he called them, are innumerable.

He can feel the Colonel's warmth now as the man stops behind him. His body is so close they are almost touching. The older man's touch had always been enough to bring Edward to his knees and send a rapidly burning fire scorching through the youth's body, leaving him gasping for air and exhausted.

Edward leans back slightly, longing for the sensation of this man's touch, but the Colonel matches his movement, denying the blonde his one true craving. It is infuriating to know that one's greatest desire is tantalizingly close and still unattainable.

The boy shakes his head, ridding himself of such delusional thoughts. Then he lays his normal hand upon the glass, reveling in the coolness that sears through his arm and murmurs, "I've heard rumors that you're useless in the rain, Colonel."

Edward grins when his comment is received with a soft snort and a hand - gloved in scratchy material - pressing upon his own, heating the chilled appendage.

The blonde stares at their hands, reveling in the simplicity of it. One is white with a fancy design upon its back while the other is soft and the colour of flesh. They are not extraordinary in the least. They are two hands pressed together against a window, which is spattered in an infinite number of raindrops.

If you were to strip the people that owned these hands of all titles and pretenses, you would simply have two men.

_They are nothing more than two men._

But it has to be complicated; Edward realizes as the Colonel's nose brushes against his neck and inhales the blonde youth's scent. He feels the hairs on his neck raise and the boy lifts his shoulders in consent, letting out a comfortable sigh.

The Colonel gently kisses him and wraps his other arm - the one not plastered against the window - around the boy's body then pulls him closer, until they are flush against each other.

_Nothing more than two men holding each other in an office building on a rainy evening._

Another kiss delicately brushes Edward's milky skin and he lets out a soft murmur of approval as the lips upon his shoulder remain, indulging in whatever heavenly flavour they are experiencing.

The boy swallows around the growing lump in his throat and tries not to complicate - or think about - what is happening. His fingers flex against the glass and he drops his head, allowing strands of blonde hair to shadow his closed eyes. They are clenched shut.

This is what he wants.

Edward listens to the pounding rain and turns in the Colonel's grasp, until they are facing one another. Their faces are so close that each can taste the other's breath. It is intoxicating and delicious and oh so wrong and both men know it.

_Nothing more than two men acting out on the primal instincts that have been suppressed for far too long._

Ed leans forward, his lips clumsily - _desperately -_ brushing the Colonel's. Though he had been prepared to pull away quickly, simply experience a sample of his most desired sin, the boy finds that he cannot move. He realizes this only when the lips beneath his own shift into a smirk.

The Colonel kisses back - light and feathery - before slowly pulling away. Both men's eyes are closed when the older of the two stops the progress. For a moment after they have committed this pleasurable transgression, neither can breathe, and, when they finally can, the Colonel is indulging in a smug smirk. He seems to be holding his self-control above the other boy's head as he realizes that Edward is incapable of movement.

"I can assure you Fullmetal, I am never useless, least of all in the rain," he says. His voice is self-assured and arrogant and purely Roy Mustang.

Edward feels his eyes narrow angrily as his body pulls him closer to the man and delights in the contact he has been deprived of for so long. He hates that he wants this, and he hates that he can't have this no matter how hard he works.

_Nothing more than two men deceiving their inner most desires for the good of everyone else_.

Edward opens his mouth, trying to find words that can pierce through the intimacy of the moment, but he finds none.

His arms wrap around the Colonel, settling in the small of the man's back and he tries to smile despite the bittersweet tension of the moment. The facial expression comes off as strained, for nothing can hide the desolate pain and yearning in his eyes.

"What are you doing here, anyway?" Roy kisses the Fullmetal Alchemist's softly -_ forced _- smiling lips and gently unwinds the boy's arms from his body, stepping away. His expression is tender for a moment and he seems to be apologizing for the years full of pain he has plagued and will continue to plague the other boy with; then he turns to shuffle through a stack of papers on his desk, distant and professional.

It is as if he is refusing to hurt the boy even more by taunting him with glimpses of what he can never have.

"I know you hate the rain," Edward says as means of explanation and glances back at the window, his eyes glazing over in thought. He misses the way the Colonel blinks, confused.

"Hm?" The man continues his task with the papers while he watches the Fullmetal Alchemist with an endearing expression of bemusement.

"You asked why I was here," Edward clarifies, "it's because I know you hate the rain."

The truth is never simple, he thinks as he refuses to look at the man behind him who is all contrasts in darks and lights. He wants Roy - _God does he want him_ - but he has duties to his brother as well as his deceased mother that come before his own happiness, and Roy has duties to the country that he will never abandon.

_Nothing more than two men with children's hearts and needs that refuse to allow themselves these comforts with half-hearted excuses._

The Colonel stops shuffling through the papers and surveys his protégé blankly. "Did you hear this from me, about the rain?"

"I…" Ed stops and realizes that he has never heard the Colonel say any such thing. "No."

"Then how can you be so certain that it is a truth?" the dark-haired man asks, stepping around the desk and heading for the door.

Edward feels his heart beat faster as he considers his malice for the truth. The truth ruined his childhood long ago and stole his brother's body from him. The truth is deceptive in its illusory simplicity.

"I can't," Edward replies, his voice flat - almost sulky - as he watches the Colonel place a gloved hand upon the doorknob.

The Colonel -_ Roy _- smiles at Edward and opens the door. "I expect you to correct the scratch marks you've left on my window, Fullmetal," he says and leaves the room, closing the door with a silent click behind him. A cold rush of air ruffles the blonde's long flowing jacket and he frowns.

_Nothing more than two men running from the truth._

With little thought, Edward claps his hands together and places them upon the glass surface of the window, which he has not strayed far from, reforming it with a small blue glow and a desolate expression.

The rain slides down the window, leaving behind a trail of inky clearness that distorts the world beyond the glass. Edward clenches his teeth and tries to convince himself that what just happened was not a distortion of the truth, but a reality that may one day stop running away from him with determination.

Edward Elric shakes his head, blonde hair whipping back and forth in the intensity of his movement, then leans his forehead upon the cool pane of glass before him.

_Nothing more than a lie._

_.:Fin:._

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AN: I love long reviews that tell my what I can improve on, or even that just specify _what_ works and _what_ was enjoyed, because it gives me an idea of what I can spend some more time working on.  
-TJ 


	2. Fire and Ice

_Posted: August 1, 2006 _

**Disclaimer**: I do not own anything FMA related.

**Note: **This is written for the 11 reasons comm at live journal (link can be found in my profile). The point of this community is to write 11 reasons for a general theme of your choice. Each reason must adhere to a certain theme that is chosen from a table of themes.

**11 Reasons General Theme**: 11 Reasons They Can Never Be Truly Happy

: I do not own anything FMA related.This is written for the 11 reasons comm at live journal (link can be found in my profile). The point of this community is to write 11 reasons for a general theme of your choice. Each reason must adhere to a certain theme that is chosen from a table of themes.: 11 Reasons They Can Never Be Truly Happy 

**Title**: Fire and Ice

**Theme**: Poetry

**Summary**: _While he stands tall and hard as stone, she will withold her tears._

**Credits/Thanks:** First off I'd like to thank rainjoyous for betaing for me! You are amazing! I'd also like to give credit where credit is due. The poem that this story revolves around is _Fire and Ice_ by Robert Frost. The other poem, of which only a few stanzas appear, is _Forget Not Yet_ by Thomas Wyatt.

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**Fire And Ice**

_Some say the world will end in fire,  
Some say in ice._

The sky, ironically enough, was grey. Yet, no fat droplets of rain fell to spatter the congregation of people - hide the despair that poured down their cheeks. They were instead forced to bow their heads and shadow their faces beneath the brims of their hats -providing they had thought to bring such an article of clothing. A few strong individuals stared upwards.

The sky was a heavy grey - the kind of grey that settled over everyone's heads, paralleling the gloom that had made hostages of their minds. As such, there was a general numbness among the group, as if someone had thrown a blanket over them, leaving them blind while still vulnerable to pain through their other senses, which had heightened in the absence of sight.

Riza Hawkeye swallowed around her distress, willing the lump in her throat to the depths of her soul. There she could lock it away, let it freeze with time, and never allow it to be thawed. If she had her way, she would not be here.

Beside her, Edward Elric stared helplessly forward with an unfocused gaze. The golden irises of his eyes were clouded over with grief and his mouth was turned downward into a lost frown. His hand tightly grasped his brother's - a contact that he needed very desperately.

The woman smiled sympathetically at the sight, her eyebrows drawn downward in distress as she tried to comprehend the child's pain. Edward was still a child at heart, despite the numerous hardships he had overcome.

Riza had to wonder how many more losses it would take for the Full Metal Alchemist, acclaimed for his empathy, to shut down and never restart.

_  
From what I've tasted of desire  
I hold with those who favour fire._

Roy Mustang was dead - he had died a hero in the line of duty - and this was his funeral. Riza repeated the phrase in her mind repeatedly as she stared at Edward. For some unfathomable reason the truth would not touch her. It instead opted to remain an elusive equation that she just couldn't manage to decode no matter how hard she tried.

She kept expecting him to show up, a frown on his face, and say, "You missed work without informing me," and then fall into a companionable silence and stare into the distance with that troubled squint in his eye that she had seen so often in the last few months of his life. In retrospect, the woman wondered if perhaps Roy had known his life was nearly over… Riza internally shook herself of the notion and returned her attention to the procession at hand; some things were better left unknown.

The priest that was leading the ceremony spoke in monotone, his tone carrying over the muffled wails of those that were present. Somehow, his lack of enthusiasm seemed fitting in a twisted sort of way.

Roy had possessed no passion for religion or anything that it stood for; likewise, religion had held no enthusiasm for him.

A light breeze crawled among the people, encouraging them to pull their coats tighter against their bodies, just as the priest asked if anyone wished to speak. Riza ducked her head and side-glanced at Ed, who was pulling a sheet of paper from his pocket and stepping forward. His eyes were squinted in a wince against an invisible beam of light and his steps were uneven and tentative, as if he were in shock.

"I'd like to say something," the boy said in a quiet voice that really didn't suit him at all.

The priest said nothing and stepped aside, bowing his head in consent. A drop of rain fell between the two men as the priest relinquished his control to Ed, hands clasped in front of his navel and gaze dropped respectively.

Riza stared at the small blonde as he drew in a shaky breath, and noticed that his chin was shadowed in a thin veil of stubble. His eyes were outlined with two dark bags. It seemed that not even the clouds above could hide the disarray of Ed's appearance.

The mother in her wanted to reach out and pull him into a hug, cradle him as he finally let down his barriers and cried. The part of her that identified as Roy's friend wanted to tell Ed to smile, that Roy wouldn't want him to be like this, and that part of her that was friends with Ed wanted to stand by and wait for him to come to her. She opted to stand by the last option, tall and sturdy.

"I don't think anyone knew this," Edward began after he had finally drawn himself together. "Not that he kept it a secret; I think it probably just never came up." He stared over the paper at the people, his eyes meeting Riza's briefly before flitting to the ground, and he continued, "But Roy really liked poetry. I remember lots of times we'd sit at home in the study, reading. I read books about alchemy mostly while Roy would pore over these huge volumes of poetry. He read tons of stuff. Actually…" Ed smiled half-heartedly, as if remembering something, and said, "I remember him telling me once that most of it was crap.

"But sometimes he would find something that he really liked…_a lot_. He said it was worth searching through all the bad stuff to find the amazing stuff." Ed stopped to smile and let his eyes fall to the ground thoughtfully. "It was kind of cute. Whenever he found something he really liked, he would ask me to listen to him read it.

"Most of the time he would act like he didn't really care if I heard it, but he did. It was in the way he would just kind of deflate if I told him I was busy…" A deep breath was drawn. "I guess, I thought that reading his favorite for him one last time would be…appropriate." Ed stopped, his voice cracking on the last word, and he stared up at the sky. His eyes were pleading - desperate -, as if he were trying to make a deal with God - as if he were asking to have Roy returned to him.

After a long stretch of silence, in which everyone watched the boy before them with pity, Edward dropped his gaze to the paper, opened his mouth, and recited,

"Forget not yet the tried intent  
Of such a truth as I have meant  
My great travail so gladly spent  
Forget not yet.

Forget not yet the great assays,  
The cruel wrongs, the scornful ways,  
The painful patience in denays  
Forget not yet.

Forget not yet thine own approved,  
The which so long hath thee so loved,  
Whose steadfast faith yet never moved..."

Edward's voiced folded into sudden silence as his eyes fell closed in a pained wince, and he whispered, "Forget not this."

_  
But if it had to perish twice,  
I think I know enough of hate_

Riza blinked back tears as the short blonde forced a smile and walked back to his brother's side, where he carefully refolded the paper and deposited it into his pocket with loving tenderness.

She refused to cry.

If Edward was not crying, then she would refrain from doing so as well.

Her eyes remained on the boy through the remainder of the service and she wondered if he would cry. The scenario was eerily similar to Hughes' funeral, the woman realized, as she found herself remembering Roy's words.

"_It's raining."_

She smiled softly and ignored the priest as he closed the service with a few final words, dismissing the crowd and letting them know where the reception would be held. Even so, it wasn't until Havoc's hand had settled in the crook of her elbow and was pulling her away from the grave - away from Edward and Alphonse, who had remained as well - that Riza finally realized it was over.

"Do you think he'll be okay?" she asked, pulling Havoc to a stop beside her when they were out of hearing range of the brothers. The pair turned to survey both Edward and Alphonse. The older had still not shed a tear.

Havoc stared at Ed somberly and nodded. "He's strong."

"But how many more times will he have to lose people before…" The woman with blonde hair and brown eyes trailed away, her eyes landing on the ground between them. She wished it would rain so she could cry. But she couldn't, not while Edward still stood strong.

"My Grandfather once told me that those dealt the worst hands are the only ones capable of enduring the resulting hardships," Havoc murmured absently. It seemed as if he were just understanding the phrase for the first time.

"Still, he deserves some happiness." The sky darkened slightly and Riza shivered as a cool wind whipped against her legs.

"He had some, even if it was only for a short while." Havoc noticed the doubt on Riza's face and continued, saying, "The two of them probably had more happiness in the small time they were together than most people have in a lifetime."

The woman glared at him and crossed her arms. Her irritation at the remark was obvious as she firmly replied, "Don't try to placate me with clichés, Havoc. We both know that's not true."

"The world doesn't just stop because you lose those you care about. It keeps going and eventually you pick yourself up and go with it. Ed's capable of doing that, as he's proved that time and time again." Havoc placed a hand on the small of her back and turned her away from the two desolate boys.

Riza snorted. "Did you learn that one from your brother as well?" she asked.

"Maybe," Havoc replied, his lips lifting into the traces of a smirk. "Let's head over to Gracia's now. They'll show up when they're ready."

It was a tempting offer but she wanted to stay a moment, see for herself that Ed really was going to be fine. "You go ahead." Riza stepped out of Havoc's grip with a reassuring smile and watched as he turned away with a shrug.

_To say that for destruction ice  
Is also great_

When Havoc was over the hill and out of sight, Hawkeye turned to watch the brothers again, only to see that Alphonse had left Edward's side and was coming towards her.

"Lieutenant," he greeted in a hushed tone.

"Riza, please," she requested and let her gaze travel to Ed. "How's he holding up?"

"Fine, I guess." Alphonse joined Riza in her observation of his brother, his glowing red eyes dimming with concern.

"He didn't cry," the woman noted. Her face was serious and she wondered what would be Edward's final destruction, his passion or his eventual shutting down of emotions.

Edward turned his head to look at her and Riza caught a whiff of the boy's scent, oil and metal. "No, nii-san rarely does anymore."

The two held each other's gazes a moment longer, connected through their common concern for Edward, and when they finally broke their staring match, both turned to watch the blonde alchemist once again.

It came as a shock for Riza when she realized that he was lying down beside the headstone, crying internally though no tears fell from his eyes. Riza felt warmth upon her cheeks and she bit her lip to keep from making any noise.

He had forgotten how to cry long ago it seemed, and it appeared he was crying in the only way he knew how.  
_  
And would suffice.

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AN: Long reviews make my pants happy and they save the ozone layer (don't ask how). So...leaving a long review that gives me insight on how I can improve would be(insertanother word for poop)awesome!  
-TJ 


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